Breath of a Life
Part One
"You do not trust me." It was said as a statement, not a question, lightly with amusement.
She tensed, but continued to gather the firewood that was to feed the flames throughout the night. Of course she didn't. The prophecies, they existed for a reason. She knew first hand that trying to stop what was meant to be was futile. Time would always correct itself one way or another.
It was at Mordred's hand that Arthur would fall. His very existence ensured the doom of everything she was trying to build. Of her.
Merlin took her time gathering sticks and twigs, letting his words hang in the air. Only when her arms were full did she turn, unsurprised to find him still there.
He was leaning against one of the various trees throughout the forest. She tilted her head to the side, once again wondering exactly what had happened to the young boy she'd helped escape the vengeful king.
But one could no longer call him a boy. He had this certain air too him of someone who had seen too many things, too many horrors before their time.
It was one that was all too familiar to her.
He wasn't innocent, she sincerely doubted he ever was with all of the things he was forced to put up with since a young age, even though he was the absolute vision of it. With his slightly round face and wide clear blue eyes, none were the wiser.
All except her, she knew what he was destined to do.
You do not trust me. The words swam around her head, softly caressing the darkest corners of her mind. She found herself harshly whispering, "No."
He did not look shocked in the least, completely unfazed and even . . . grateful for. Mordred pushed himself off the tree and circled her.
She felt as though he were the vulture and she the prey, all he was waiting for was a moment of weakness to attack. She kept her gaze forward stubbornly, this was a game of will. A game she did not want to lose.
"Might I inquire as to why?" He was close now, she could feel his warm breath against her neck, if she were to turn, they would be but inches apart.
"No."
He chuckled at that, a dark, rich sound and she could feel his chest vibrate. "Still as stubborn as always, Emrys." Mordred moved forward, removing all space between them. He placed his hands on her waist and leaned down to let his head rest on her shoulder. "Now why don't you tell me the truth?"
She could make out the outline of his jaw and chin, see the light stubble adorning it out of the corner of her eye. She would be loathe to admit it, but his proximity was doing things to her. Her heart rate picked up (onetwothreefouronetwothreefour) and there was a feeling of warmth and giddiness beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. Merlin drew in a shuddering breath, hating herself for reacting so.
There was no need to turn to see him smirk, she could feel it.
"We found you with a group of slave traders in the North." She arched an eyebrow even though the action would've been wasted. "I would hope the answer was rather obvious."
He hummed and the action sent a tingle down her spine. He tightened his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. His chainmail was beginning to dig painfully into her back, but she didn't make a sound. She wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing he caused her pain.
To anyone else it would have looked like a lover's embrace, but both of them knew better. His lips moved down to the shell of her ear and she stiffened.
"But that's not all, is it Emrys?" He murmured against her skin. His voice hardened. "I spent years wondering what I did to deserve your betrayal." She let the firewood drop to the ground as he squeezed her closer to him. His hands moved to her ribs and she began to have trouble breathing.
"And I started to think," his voice began to shake with his frustration and desperation. "What if it wasn't me? What if it was her?" The little oxygen that was entering her left her with a small puff.
Onetwothreefouronetwothreefour. Her heart beated nervously. He was too close for her liking.
"I came back to Camelot for answers." She gasped for air, feeling like a fish out of water. "And I expect to get them."
"Then I hope you're used to disappointment." What was she doing? She practically admitted there was something else to the story. Merlin blamed him, his presence addled her thought process.
"Quite familiar with it, yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'll accept it." His words angered her, what kind of person did he think she was? She wouldn't tell him anything, and never would. She put her hands atop his and pushed them away, all the while ignoring the thrill she felt when her skin met his.
He didn't resist as she pulled away with a wheeze, relishing the fresh air that expanded and deflated her chest. Her hands hovered over where his had been, pushing down lightly before hissing, more out of shock that it hurt at all than actual pain.
His eyes were filled with regret. "You're injured. I didn't mean to- I'm . . ." He seemed to be struggling for words.
"I doubt most accidents were done on purpose." She said jokingly, trying to brush it off. His magnetic blue eyes were staring intensely into hers and she didn't like the effect they were having on her (not saying she didn't enjoy it).
"Let me," he gestured toward her torso with his hands. He wanted to heal her. She wasn't that astonished he knew she didn't know much healing magic, she tended to lean more towards combat and defensive, her situation having demand it.
He slowly lifted her shirt, his eyes resting on the purple blotches that were beginning to appear. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he traced them cautiously with his fingers. "I lost myself."
She barely registered his words, he was touching her and she . . . she didn't necessarily object. She was pleased that despite his confident demeanor, his cheeks were tinged with pink. He wasn't as unaffected as he wished he was.
She could feel his magic building up beneath his skin as muttered words she could not decipher under his breath. The dull ache was subsiding and a new feeling was replacing it; the warmth was back. He felt good. His magic was a calm lake and hers a raging ocean.
It was a nice change and if asked later on the motive of her actions, she would blame him and the things he was making her feel.
She leaned up to kiss him. It was nothing special, just a quick press of the lips, her chapped against his soft, but it felt monumentally right.
Her mind was in turmoil. What was she doing? Here she was, snogging a man nearly six years her junior.
All rational thoughts left her, however, as soon as he responded. At first the kiss had been gentle, but now it had taken an aggressive edge to it.
She gasped into his mouth as he pushed her roughly against a tree. He took advantage of it and his tongue delved into her mouth to meet with hers. Her hands snaked up his chest to tangle her fingers in his curly hair, so much like hers. She pushed him closer to her, but it wasn't enough, and she doubted it ever would be.
She tugged at his chainmail, pondering how she could remove it without breaking contact. She felt the familiar burn behind her eyes and the chainmail was lying at the base of the tree.
"Bit impatient, aren't we?" His voice was laced with smugness.
"All with good reason," she managed to get out before he attacked her bruised lips once again. His hands slipped under her shirt and she could feel the magic burst off of him before the chilly night air brushed her shoulders, though her neckerchief was still on. She smirked before returning the favor.
She relished the feel of him with nothing separating them. Merlin could sense his magic, feel it pulse throughout him under her roaming fingers. She drew in a sharp breath as his lips moved down to trace her jaw and neck.
"Beautiful," he murmured against her collarbone. Her fingers toyed with the hem of his trousers before shoving them down his hips They pooled at his feet and he kicked them away eagerly. He manually removed the rest of her clothes and there was something hard pressing into the underside of her belly. She didn't know much about men, having only been with Will the one and only time after deciding she didn't like it, but felt as though this was a good thing.
Will had been a friend for too long, practically an older brother. There was nothing brotherly about this. Merlin was pleased she could make anyone react like this. His hands moved down her sides leaving a trail of fire in its wake before hoisting her up, so that in order to stay balanced she had to wrap her legs around him.
The first thing she noticed in this position was that he was pressing against her core, but not quite entering. Every little movement made shocks of electricity zap up her.
It wasn't enough.
She rubbed her hips against his and he seemed to get the message. One hand went behind her neck and the other went to her folds. "Are you . . ." He trailed off, uncertain.
She nodded and he slid into her effortlessly. Merlin hissed, it didn't hurt, she just felt full, to the brim. They got a pattern going easily enough, her thrusts meeting his, each one leaving her a little more breathless. It wasn't enough. She pulled his head down to hers, hoping that she could feel the closeness she so desperately needed.
Her magic hummed and raged throughout her, searching for a release. She let it loose.
It was like a broken dam, waves of it left her searching for the closest magical object to wash over, to consume. Mordred. His magic responded accordingly, meeting hers with a forceful push. They merged together until neither could tell where they began or where they ended.
Mordred, she gasped mentally, somehow knowing he would be able to hear her. Her mind brushed against his tenderly, this was what she had craved, this intimacy.
Emrys. He said before he came, her walls clenching and unclenching around him. Their magic returned to them, but it felt different, a bit unfamiliar.
Harsh breathing was the only sound that filled the air. Their eyes met, blue against blue, and the reality of the situation came crashing down on Merlin. had slept with Mordred. Mistake.
He threw her a look, and she instantly knew he had heard. He helped her slide off of him and both of them went to collect their clothes that were strewn about casually upon the forest floor. They dressed with their back to each other, which she thought was for the better. She didn't trust her mouth.
He walked over to where she had dropped the firewood and scooped it up with his arms before depositing it into her awaiting arms. He turned as though to leave, but she found herself calling his name. "Mordred!" His eyebrows rose, as though to say, What now? "I-" What could she say? To reassure him, to say she didn't mean it?
There he was, his icy orbs gazing into hers filled with hurt. "I'm sorry," she whispered, turning to do what she did best.
Run.
'
'
Coward, her fingers traced the word into the dirt unconciously. In truth, that was all she was. She had fled Ealdor when the neighbors had seen one too many things in fear of her safety. In Camelot, she was forced to hide behind the facade of a dim-witted servant, else she might find herself in a pyre alit with flames.
And now she was running from him.
Merlin thumped her head against the rough bark of the tree. When she had returned to camp, Arthur had been a bit frustrated by the fact she had taken such a long time and maybe even a bit suspicious, but it was put to rest when she had fed him her typical excuse, I got lost.
She wasn't sure to be worried because they actually believed she was daft enough to get lost or the fact lies were leaving her mouth so easily, but she did know one thing she had to worry about.
She slept with a man six years her junior.
She knew that if her situation were reversed, if he were the older one, no one would care. It wasn't uncommon to see a couple as such, but seeing how she was female, there would be stares and scandaled whispers if word were to ever get out. She didn't look it, though.
Her magic slowed her aging down. While the rest of her friends, while still young, their true age was beginning to show. The other day, she had spotted a gray hair amidst Arthur's blonde locks. She had teased him mercilessly until he threatened to throw her in the stocks, but in reality, it just served to remind her that they would wither and die while she would barely look over twenty-five.
Merlin got up early in the morning after nearly two hours of sleep. She'd been unwilling to go to sleep, already knowing that her dreams would be replaying last night's events. She began to pack the supplies sleepily.
There had been a bit of a skirmish on the outer regions of Camelot between some farmers and rumored bandits. No sign of them were found, so they were on their way back to the castle. A light rustling in the bush broke her thoughts. She stepped towards it cautiously, her arm out-stretched.
A deer plowed through and she jumped out of the way. She laughed a bit at that, but something quickly smothered it. Her eyes flickered down to the hand that was covering her mouth, it didn't seem to be one of the knights.
"Such a pretty thing." An arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to the side. Most definitely one of the knights. Merlin struggled against her bonds, but it only resulted in low chuckling. Her magic tugged and pulled at the edges of her very being, demanding release, but she couldn't. However far away she was, she was still within the line of sight of the knights and if one of them saw. . .
She shuddered at the thought of that and because the man was beginningto touch her. She fought back harder, trying to incorporate the little tricks she had picked up from Arthur throughout his years of training. It didn't work. "Feisty. I can see why those boys of yours still keep the same whore around. You willing to treat me the same? I'll make it worth your while," he offered, his putrid breath against the back of her neck.
Merlin couldn't do much, the screams she attempted to do came out as pathetic whimpers. The man's arm went under her shirt, groping her chest. Bile rose in her throat and tears made their way down her cheeks. Mordred!
His blue eyes snapped open, instantly connecting with her own. His hand closed around his sword and a single finger rose to his lips. She gave a small jerk of the head.
And then he was gone.
The hold on her slackened and her shoulder moistened. She could smell iron and salt. Blood. New arms enveloped her, familiar, warm and reassuring.
Him.
"Are you okay?" She was moving her head, though in which direction she was not sure. She found it a bit redundant he was asking her this, it was most obvious she was not. Even if she could've answered, any possible response froze on her lips.
Bandits were flooding in from atop the slopes upon seeing their leader dead.
Mordred pushed her behind him, weilding his sword in front of him as though daring them to strike first. The knights were up and about, despite having just woken up looking alert.
All of them were fighting valiently, but they were sorely outnumbered. Just when it looked they stood a chance of winning, more appeared. One lunged forward, managing to slice Mordred's side before Merlin blasted him and all potential threats away. She wouldn't let them hurt him.
Because she could have sworn she that a blade had pierced her left side, even though she saw it go through another's.
His.
A/N: Here it is, a Born-A-Girl-Merlin/Mordred. Everything else has happened, no major changes. I hope you enjoyed it. Part Two is already under way, but I can't say when it'll be up. It takes about 2-4 days to write a decent chapter, another 2 to edit it, and I only have enough time to type once a week and sometimes not even that, and it takes about 2-3 days to type and re-edit. Can't make any promises, but I'll try to have it up before Febuary. Review, if you liked it, or if you see any mistakes. Thanks! The song for the entire story is, if you haven't noticed already, "Breath of a Life" by Florence and the Machine. Go check them out if you don't know who they are. Absolutely amazing.